Love Me Dead
by Single Rose
Summary: When the Joker escapes as he is won't to do , what will happen to Bruce Wayne, who has hung up his Bat suit? What does the Joker want with Bruce, exactly? Could he have found out the secret? Bruce Wayne/Joker.
1. Let's Escape

I'm fixing my story so it's easier to read. A few people were commenting on how the whole thing was hard to read- they were TOTALLY right. SO I'm going to fix this up so you guys can read it easier! RIght now it looks like blocks of text. I'm going to change everything and fix it up.

I don't own Batman, Joker, Bruce Wayne... I don't own any of it. I just like writing the stories! So please read, and the story gets better as it goes!

"talk" is talking  
'talk' is thinking.

* * *

"Boss?" Someone whispered, knocking their knuckles against the bricks. A few men, faces covered from view by clown masks, stood at a barred window, high up on the wall. One held a drill and a large saw, another with his gun and a few knives stuffed in his pockets. The last one fixed a rope to the tall window, tying it to a bar so he could climb up properly. "Boss?" He asked again, peering into the dark area.

It was night- the best time to make an escape. The security was more loose than in the morning and afternoon, and it was harder to see everyone, especially if it was a joint effort. Sure, the Joker probably could have wriggled his way out of this alone… but if he had more people to catch, it was harder to find him specifically.

"I'm here, I'm here!" He called back in a high-pitched whisper. He fixed his loose tie, licking his lips. It had been such a hassle, living in the cell for two weeks. It would be much better once he was out of the place. Luckily he had a private cell, and almost everyone was asleep. His holding jail cell was small, and he stood from the mattress, straightening his pants. He walked over to the window, staring up at it, deciding how exactly he would climb up to the square hole in the wall. He reached up on the toes of his shoes, grasping the bars and pulling himself up by his arms. Finally he saw the henchmen looking up at him, one being suspended from the bars.

"Boss, what should we use?" The clown-masked man with the saw and drill asked, holding them up. The Joker looked at both, seeming to contemplate before pointing to the drill. "Hand it up!" The masked man handed the drill up to the suspended man, who in turn let their boss get a grip on it.

The Joker was indeed used to planning escapes… he had been in penitentiaries and jails and even padded cells in asylums. He was used to being creative with what he did; though he hadn't been out of his cell in a long while; it was hard to plan an escape with no one coming by to give some leverage. Therefore, he had told his men to come after two weeks of waiting. And there they were; lucky for the Joker that they were all too spineless not to go through with his plans.

"Alrighty…" The crazed man grasped the drill, looking at the tip and touching it with his finger to test it's sharpness. "Mmm." He looked at the bars and murmured under his breath. "This is going to be loud…"

Suddenly the drill sped to life as he pressed down the button. It whirred and crashed into one of the bars, breaking it in half and sending little metal pieces ricocheting from the tiny window sill. "Ha ha!" Joker had the bar crushed into powder in a moment more, and with a hand from one of his followers, he hoisted himself out. He glanced back, seeing the form of a police officer coming forward, shouting some incoherent orders to his fellow cops as they all saw the Joker's disappearing feet sliding out of the window.

The Joker dropped to the earth with a small grunt, hoisting himself to his feet and fixing his sleeves. "Come on, boys!" He said cheerfully, grabbing one of the guy's masks and shrugging off his vest, throwing it into a box his men had carried to hold their equipment. After loosening up his tie, he threw that in as well, face hidden beneath the rubber clown mask.

His henchmen had grabbed the box and equipment and were rushing off into the street before splitting up through different boulevards and alleyways. The Joker opted to rush off behind an old apartment building. He giggled, leaning against the wall once he was sure no one had seen him, sliding down and fishing into his pockets. He frowned when no knife greeted his fingertips. He was so used to having a sharp object on him. He tapped his foot against the wet sidewalk, grinning in accomplishment when a hidden knife stuck out from the heel of his shoe. He grabbed it, pulling it from the leather and touching it in his fingers.

'Now what was the plan again? Oh that's right…' He pushed up, looking down at what he wore. He would need his full suit again if he were to visit such an estate. Yes indeed… he had heard of this Bruce Wayne, an industrial shark, the billionaire and the owner of the whole Wayne estate. And what was more… he knew something about Batman. The Joker was sure of it; Batman placed his trust with certain people; people with money, the police, and of course, his close friends… like that Rachel Dawe. She had known something… though he hadn't gotten anything from her. He frowned, licking his lips habitually and staring out at the street. He would have to get another disguise… or at least get himself to one of the hideouts quickly. Who knew where the police might have been investigating. Of course, now that he had his prime choice of weapon back…

* * *

"Master Wayne… Is there anything else I can get for you?" Alfred stayed near the door of the large master bedroom, holding a tray of half finished food. The head of Wayne Enterprises was still quiet, staring up at the ceiling and laying on the bed.

"…No, Alfred. I think I might take a rest or something." Bruce murmured under his breath, looking deprived of sleep. He was glad to not have too many affairs lately… but he was still wiped out. From almost everything he did, he seemed to become even more exhausted. Just traveling out to a meeting and coming back… it drained him of energy. It was probably because he was not getting as much exercise, since he had backed away from Batman for a while. It was easier to keep to being the industrial king he was now, then to be the masked vigilante as well. He just wanted to stay away from the bat suit for a while. Perhaps he would pick it up again sometime.

"…Alfred." Bruce mumbled, glancing over towards the door, where his butler had been walking.

"Yes, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked with a small frown, holding the tray in his hands. Alfred had been Bruce's butler for as long as he could remember… he always confided in him with things.

"Where is the Joker?"

"Still in Arkham, just like yesterday and the day before, Master Wayne." Alfred chuckled, a twinkle in his eye as he stepped back to the door. "Have a pleasant rest, Master Wayne." He said in a cordial voice, bowing his head before leaving the room.

It wasn't Bruce's fault that the crazed murderer kept popping into his head. He wasn't used to a day without that insane clown. He was usually running amok on the street, killing one after another, making the town go crazy with fear… but he hadn't escaped Arkham yet. How was that? He had done it before. Perhaps they had increased their security… that would have been a sight to see. Bruce frowned, glaring at the ceiling. Well, it was no use thinking about that now. He needed sleep… lots of sleep. He turned on his side and tried to rest as best as he could.

* * *

"So, Boss, how're we climbing up 27 floors?" A clown-masked henchman asked his boss, parking the white van behind the large building of the Wayne building and hopping out. Joker was comfortable in his usual ensemble; comfortable green vest, blue patterned shirt, a forest green tie, as well as his blue blazer and the large purple trenchcoat on top. He stuffed a hand into his pocket, pulling out a knife and playing with it as he thought.

"28." The Joker mumbled under his breath. The Wayne master suite was on the 28th floor. That was where they needed to get to… the one he needed to get to, anyways. "Simple." He walked up to the wall, touching it. It was all glass windows… easy enough to break. He had done that many times before. "Alright…" He murmured after a bit of thinking, stroking the wall absently. "Got it! Okay, two of you are gonna get up on that big building over there, and shoot your wires across… wait for me up there. I need you two to make sure no one sees the van. Park it somewhere else, if you please. Aaaaand…" He glanced back at the last man. He hated uneven numbers. "…Hmmm." He walked up to the last man, who turned his head down to look at the slightly shorter man. "We don't need an extra for this mission… sorry. Better luck next time?" The Joker gave a sympathetic smile before raking his knife across the man's throat. Blood gushed against the man's clothing and over the Joker's hand as he shushed the groaning man until he was dead on the floor.

His henchmen were silent, glancing back at the dead man and all swallowing nervously. The Joker chuckled. "You two are parking the car right? Well get rid of this body too, if you don't mind!" He hop-skipped over to the sidewalk. "Let's go, then!"

* * *

TA DA!! I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm going to fix everything for you all. So hopefully it's a LOT easier to read! Thanks!


	2. The Plan

Helloooo!! Here is second chapter, revised for your viewing pleasure. Hopefully this all works out!!

Okay. I still don't own Batman or Joker or anything. I just enjoy writing the story.

"talk" is talking.  
'talk' is thinking.

Joker/Bruce Wayne

* * *

The proceedings went smoothly. The Joker followed his thugs up to the top of a large old office building, hiking up stairwell after stairwell until finally they opened the door to the roof. Wind spun their clothing around and pressed against their backs as they grabbed a few strange looking guns, rushing to the side, crouching down, and firing.

Small hooks were flared out, connected to pieces of long cable wire. They were about 20 floors up… when the Joker landed, he would just have to go up the elevator, or the stairs, should he need to.

He was excited for his little meeting with Mr. Wayne, the mysterious entrepreneur. He was a cold, stiff man, he had heard… handsome to the ladies, successful to the men… in other words, a model citizen and a very good role model for the people with high hopes. The Joker should his head, chuckling under his breath as he listened to the wind, buffeting around his purple trench coat, waving it about.

Another cable was fired and soon there were two long cables suspended over the city. "Oh I love this trick, I love it." The Joker murmured under his breath, walking to the side where the cables were tied. He glanced back at the two men. "Watch the cables… release 'em once I'm in!" He said cheerfully. There seemed to be no thought in his mind about the 20 floor drop from where he was- he felt around in a pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. The best way to go across…

He tossed one cuff over the other and put them on, making sure they were locked, the key in a pocket, all closed up. "A pleasure!" He called to the baffled henchman as he lifted his agile legs, wrapping them around one of the cables and sliding his body across like an inchworm. He kept his head tucked, glancing up at the large building ahead. Mr. Bruce Wayne… Bruce? An interesting name for a billionaire. He was used to the typical 'Edmond', 'Edward', or some sort of ethnic name… he frowned, twisting himself up as he felt his body relaxing. "Oopsies!" He laughed, his whole body swinging back and forth. His henchmen held onto the cables for dear life, watching fearfully. Was this guy crazy!? He would cut off his wrists, using handcuffs!

But the Joker wasn't crazy. He slid himself forward. Halfway there. Traffic sped by beneath him. The clown didn't flinch. He chuckled, humming to himself loudly.

"Mmmm mmm hmm mmm…" The roaring of a siren went by. "mmm MMM mm mm…" He shook his head, greasy blond and green hair tossed about by the wind. "Mmm mmm… hmm mm hmm….mmm mm…" He shrugged his shoulders, feeling his bulky clothing swinging about, and another siren. That was getting annoying. He couldn't concentrate! He chanced a quick look down. Police, ambulance, fire truck? What was it? "Mmm…" He paused on a note of the carnival song he had been humming, seeing a fire truck speed by. He sighed in relief. No police men… well, they had probably started the alarms for his escape now. Maybe Bats was already looking for him…

"Hmm mmm…ooh!" He stopped, wincing as his foot stubbed into something. "Ah!" It was the window. He looking in quickly to make sure it was an abandoned room- and it was, just an empty office room- and he swung himself back precariously, feeling the cables bounce and tighten. His feet pulled together and he slammed forward into the glass, the knife in his shoe coming out to break the glass. It shattered about him and he tumbled in. "Ah he ha!" He jumped to his feet, brushing off his clothing. That had certainly been loud… they would find him soon if he didn't hustle.

Out into the hall he ran, finding the stairs and rushing up them. "Twenty eight… tweeenty eight… eight plus twenty is twenty EIGHT." Joker crashed up the stairs, making sure to listen for any commotion. Surely someone had seen the mess he had made!  
"…Twenty eight!" He hopped up, panting a bit as he regained breath. "Dearie me…" He patted his chest and felt his heart thumping. "I need to get on the stairmaster!" He felt around in his pocket and pulled out a neglected apple peeler. Oh, how he'd missed it… he carried it in a purple-gloved hand, stepping to the door and slowly pushing it open. Another hallway… he knew the man's suite was here.

"Bruce, Bruce… Brucey Bruce. Wayne. Bruce Wayne. Hmm." He mumbled to himself, coming to a door and frowning.

DO NOT DISTURB.

"Ha!" He looked at the knob. Of course, locked. He leaned down to be eye-to-knob with it, pushing the very edge of his apple peeler's blade in and twisting it about. "Mmhmm. Mm… there we go." He pulled back his weapon, jiggling the handle as gently as he could. If the man wasn't there, he could always wait for him… he slowly pushed the door open, glancing in.

"Oooh!" The Joker's already scratched in smile grew as he stepped into a large suite. A dining table sat near one of the windows, with four chairs that probably were never all occupied. A small kitchenette was placed nearby for easy access on-the-go, along with a large wide screen television hanging on a mantle, with a lush, leather couch. "So many toys…" Joker was used to seeing such luxuries- mostly from the mob bosses he had 'associated' with, and robbing so many houses.

He enjoyed the view from these windows… the whole town at the disposal of this Wayne character. Speaking of…

The Joker glanced about, seeing a large, king sized bed sitting near the far wall. He walked on his toes right over, brow raised as he realized that indeed, someone was sleeping in the bed.

"Hmm." Joker stepped closer, yellow teeth showing in a large grin as he tenderly sat on the side of the bed. The man was a bit tan, head tilted to one side, body lying over on one angle on the bed. He seemed to be wearing a button down shirt, but it was loose and undone, and the man's hair was tousled, dark brown.

The clown contemplated how to do this. Obviously he couldn't just kill the man; he had things to ask, and he needed some intimidation. He smirked, licking his tongue over the faded red makeup over his lips and cheeks.

'Got it.'

Reaching one hand over, he placed it over the man's mouth suddenly, covering it harshly. The man jolted awake, eyes bleary, but suddenly alert. The murderous Joker smiled down at him.

"Wake up, sleepyhead! I have some questions to ask you!" The man thrashed and the Joker leaned over the bed so he pressed the other man down, the knife at his cheek. "Aww, don't be like that… Mr. Wayne, is it? Bruce, right? Well, listen, I heard from a very reliable source that you just might have some info. And guess who needs it? Well, there's certainly not anyone else in this room!" The clown reveled in the man's confusion and sudden anger in his eyes.

"What's wrong, Bruce? Unhappy about something? Maybe I should have let you sleep longer… but really, I have things to do. So let's cut to the chase." He murmured, grinning, his eyes wild with mischief, the black make up around them blotched and blurry.  
Bruce stared back at him, mumbling something into his captor's hand.

"Hmm? Sorry, Brucey, I can't hear you." He kept the knife near his cheek, slowly letting his hand pull from the other's mouth.

"Disgusting piece of-"

"Now, now, Bruce. I'm trying to be civil! I have a couple questions for you. You answer and go back to sleep! Easy as that. Now, let me see here…" The Joker tapped his own scarred, scratched cheek with his knife in contemplation. "…Ahh yes. The Batman."  
The man beneath him stiffened, staring up at the Joker. Had he found out? Did he know the secret? How had he found it out?

"I am hearing that you might know his identity… or where Bats' little cave is. Where he's hiding… is he on vacation? I heard he hung up his wings when I got taken into custody! Silly, huh? He thought he could contain me in there! How funny!" He smirked, leaning down to regard the man. Why did his quite angular jaw seem so familiar? "Now, you can answer. I won't slice you up."  
Bruce's hands shot out and pushed the murderer from his bed, making him tumble off and onto the floor. Bruce jumped off hurriedly, fixing his black pants and grabbing into the drawer of his bedside table.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't be like that!" Joker stood with a small groan, cracking his back. "Ahh that felt good. Anyways, back to the Batman. I really need to know where he is. You see, he's one of the reasons I was locked up! Imagine it. I can't be contained in such a small cell. It's like clipping a bird's wings! I need room to… to fly, if you will. Now." He fixed his stance, still holding the apple cutter as the man rummaged in the table's drawer for something to use. "Any information? Anything whatsoever?"

Bruce cursed. He had thought he might have a gun stowed away… nothing. He pulled out an old Time magazine and the Joker smirked. "What's wrong? Listen, I don't have all day. So if we could hurry this along, Bruce… it would be very helpful." He smiled, lunging forward and grabbing the other, pushing him down against the floor. Bruce kicked, his strong body thrashing beneath the other who kept him down.

"Hmm. An entrepreneur who works out? How funny. Now please… information would be appreciated!" Joker clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth, watching the other below him. The man felt trapped, and he stared up at the strangely dressed man.

"…What… do you want to know?" Bruce asked. He would have to lie… or avoid the truth. But what if the other realized who he was? If he got too close…

"What do I… what do I want to know? Ha! He ha ha!" The clown shook his head as he tried to regain his breath. He exclaimed, "Anything! Any information! His real name, where he lives, where his little cave happens to be… license plate number? Social security, how many girlfriends, I could care less! BUT…" The knife caressed the side of Bruce's face, who cringed a tiny bit, glancing up at the other, confused. "I need the truth, Brucey. I don't want to go on a wild goose chase… that wouldn't be very nice, huh?"  
The Joker's voice was so taunting to the trapped man. He was good at throwing things off him… but with no weapons, he wasn't as strong. He couldn't lever himself off without cutting his throat on that knife… it seemed hopeless. But he couldn't say. He shut his mouth, staring up at the other. The staring battle started. Neither said anything- the Joker's black outlined eyes stared back at the vigilante's dark ones, and they both stayed silent.

"…Want to know how I got these scars?" The Joker asked in a conversational voice, the knife tracing the others lips, his eyes absently watching them move a tiny bit in protest. When the businessman beneath him didn't say a word, he continued on his little story. "You see… I was big into baseball, when I was a little kid. And Mommy took me out ALL the way into the downtown area to watch the local teams duke it out… ahh, those were the days. BUT one day, one team went over the edge and a fight broke out. The men were angry- someone was cheating, ya see? So they started an all out brawl. I had been waiting in line for a signature from my favorite player… but an army knife slipped by and just happened to slice me up! But it's okay, ya see? Not so bad, huh?" He touched his own scars with one hand, stroking the spots.

"…You're crazy!" Bruce spat out at him. The Joker stopped, frowning down at him, confusion in his eyes.

"Crazy? Ah, no, no, no, Brucey, you got me all wrong! See? I'm not crazy. I'm not the masked stranger beating people with his bare fists in the middle of the night, like your little friend Bats. No, I'm a man of simple tastes! All I need is some explosives and a knife. I don't need such bravado… just me!"

"What about… your stupid makeup?" Bruce challenged, chest heaving. Stupid Joker was stronger than he appeared, and having him sit, straddling his chest was just too much. He couldn't get up.

"You don't like it? Well I guess it's a bit wild for some. But it's only to help compliment my scars. See, they look nice like this!" His knife came back down within inches of the vigilante's face. "But enough about me… let's hear about YOU, Mr. Wayne! Big entrepreneur, huh? I hear you help out a whole lot down at Arkham… thanks for all that extra security, by the way." He winked, leaning on one arm comfortably, as if they had been old friends. Bruce glared up at him, mentally cursing himself. He should have bought them an electric fence or something…

Screw it, this mastermind could probably break through ANYTHING. "… Why are you here?" Bruce asked, buying time. Perhaps Alfred would see what had happened… but what could Alfred do? Call the police? The Joker would just kill him.

"Haven't we been over this?" The Joker shifted his body a bit, staring down at the other. "Listen, I know you might not exactly trust in me… but I'm not gonna TELL anyone, I swear! I just want to find out where Bats is… I got to talk to him about something. See, he suddenly disappeared! And I can't live my life without Bats coming after me! Without him, what am I? Just a guy stealing and killing. But WITH him, I am a scary guy! I like that! I want that back. SO all I need… is information."

"…I don't know where he is." Bruce mumbled under his breath. In a way, it was true. He had no motivation to be Batman at the moment… and he wasn't going to start dressing up again, just so he could keep up with the Joker's little game.

"See… if I don't HAVE the Batman back, what am I gonna do? I'll just kill some more people. He seems okay with it- hasn't been doing much to stop."

Bruce grit his teeth. "You've been in JAIL." He growled out. Joker raised his brow with a chuckle.

"Mmm, why so serious, Bruce?" He asked, letting the knife trace down the other's chest. "You seem very familiar, Mr. Wayne." The Joker watched the other's breath hitch when the knife cut a tiny bit into his flesh, right near his stomach. "Oops! I hope my hand doesn't slip again…"

"Listen… Joker." Bruce said quickly. He didn't want the other to do anything rash… though rashness was the clown's specialty. "I think he hung up his cloak. He's done. He's gone. Batman's gone." He murmured tiredly, watching the Joker. The clown's face contorted in what looked like confusion.

"You must be mistaken, Mr. Wayne." The Joker leaned in real close, watching the other with dark eyes. "I'm sure he's willing to appear… for a friend like you, hmm?" He glanced down at the other, who stared up at him hatefully, before reaching into his pockets. "Lesse… where did they GO?" He made a small triumphant noise and pulled out the handcuffs he had used earlier. "Ta da! Field trip!" He turned the other around easily beneath him, his chest pressed into the small of the slightly taller man's back as he cuffed him.

"He's not going to-"

"Aww, hush now. Don't ruin my fun." Joker grasped the man's arms, pushing him up. "Stand, come on now… there we are. Now, let me see. How to get back?" He pulled the other along with him. "You have a rocket launcher around here?" Bruce stared back at the Joker, not amused. "…Well gee, so much for a sense of humor. Alright, maybe I can just…" He dug about in his pockets and finally pulled out an old looking cell phone. He dialed a number and held it up to his ear. "Hiya… yeaaah but see, it's the twenty eighth floor… no. Yeah, that would be GREAT. Really? Okay, just aim high. Mmhmm… we'll stand back." He turned off the phone and slid it into a pocket, leading Bruce along with him backwards, away from the windows.

"What're you-"

"You'll see, sweetheart. Watch!" The Joker watched the windows, seeing a small speck on the roof of a lower building, and then a sudden shot of fire. One whole panel of glass exploded and shattered into pieces. "Oh, how wonderful. Now let's be on our way! This might be a bit harder than it was arriving, though!" He looked at the quite steep zip line leading down to the building. He couldn't carry the larger, more muscular man, and now he was handcuffed… "Ooo, I got it!" He grabbed the phone again, having another short conversation.

A few seconds later, some clown-masked henchmen were climbing up the zip lines into the building. Bruce stayed where he was- the handcuffs were too tight and he had nothing to pick the lock with. He sighed, mind thinking hard. Was Lucius nearby? Maybe he could do something…

The men climbed in, grabbing Bruce and each connecting themselves to harnesses and sliding down the zip line. Bruce's eyes went wide as he felt the very distinct possibility that he could indeed drop, if one man lost his grip. But he was thrown over onto the roof without a hitch, and the Joker slid across easy as pie.

The Joker smirked, glancing over at Bruce, who the henchmen had tied up a bit better, making sure his arms couldn't move from behind his body. "Oh boy, everything's going just fine! Now, back to the headquarters, hop to it!"

* * *

Okay, so here it is! Chapter 2, all fixed. I hope it's easier to read like this. The third chapter is, I suppose the most exciting. SO keep reading, please! And R & R if you enjoyed!

See you next chapter!!


	3. After the Captured Bat Squeals

Third chapter! YAY! 8D

Anyways. I'm posting this up quick before I leave to head out to dinner and junk. SO have fun reading!

I don't own Batman, or Joker, or Bruce Wayne, Alfred, Commissioner Gordon... I don't anyone! I just wanted to write the story.

ALSO please read the other two chapters, too! And please review if you enjoy!

* * *

The room that Bruce was staying in was, one could say… quite bland. It wasn't even a room- it reminded him of the county jail's interrogation room. There was an old swinging lamp, one table, chairs on either side… except, in this room, there was an old mattress on the floor in the corner.

Bruce didn't like this room at all. He was so used to larger areas to stretch himself out, to walk around… a room with things to do. He sighed, leaning back against the wall. He was still tied up; probably because the clown prince didn't know his strengths and weaknesses yet.

This room reminded Bruce of an asylum. There were no windows, and the walls were white brick… all he needed was a bit less furniture and a straight jacket. Of course, it felt like he was in a straight jacket, with his arms tied behind his back…

A knock came at the door. Bruce stayed seated in the chair at the table, glancing at the door. Why did they bother knocking?

"Hello, beautiful!" Joker hopped inside, closing the door behind him. "How do you like the new accommodations? Classy, huh?" He sat across from the other, in a quite leisurely position, fingers laced together and placed on the table, legs slightly apart, head tilted back. His hair was just as oily looking and gross as usual, makeup faded, cracked near his temples, smudged everywhere.

Bruce wasn't looking forward to anything this clown said. He watched the other with weary eyes, staying stiffly in his chair, shrugging a tiny bit to try and make his arms more comfortable. The Joker regarded him with his own dark eyes, smirking.

"So, Bruce!" The Joker said brightly, crossing his arms against his chest and putting his legs up on the table, chair leaning back a tiny bit. "We have to make you cozy! You'll be here for a while. But I think if we make it seem like you're in trouble, maybe Bats will come sooner. SO…" The Joker stood, fishing into a pocket of his purple pinstriped pants, humming. He pulled out what looked like an apple peeler, which caused Bruce's jaw to set.

"… Joker, he's not going to come for me." Bruce warned, seeing the weapon and taking a deep breath. He couldn't tell the other why exactly… then he would be dead before.

"I just wanna see Bats again, that's all! It won't be too bad… you know, he completes me! I have to have the Bats coming to get me, or else I'm just no good! The Batman is my other half!" The Joker had sidled up to Bruce's side, sitting on the table across from him. He undid a button on his vest to make himself more comfortable, loosening his tie as well. "Ya see, important people… like you… they seem to make tons of commotion! People care about the big business guy… because you're a good guy, right, Brucey? Charity balls, helping the community, and all that? Well Bats will want a man like that alive. Just like he wanted Harvey Dent to stay alive!"

"…Harvey Dent died, Joker!" Bruce spat out, getting angrier now. Thinking of Harvey reminded him of… Rachel…

"Ah yes, he did. BUT Bats went and saved him! See? It's all a big web that gets tangled up, and sometimes you just can't break free before the big spider eventually pulls you in and sucks your guts out!" The Joker cackled, running his apple peeler against the entrepreneur's cheek without drawing blood. "Harvey got his guts sucked out. Do you think you'll be the same, Mr. Wayne?" He asked, leaning down and watching the lean man turn his face away from the knife. "This would be easier if you gave me some info, ya know."  
"I don't know anything…" Bruce mumbled with a sigh. "Don't you think I would have told you by now? I don't like being tied up."  
"Yeah, but you're pretty strong, sweetheart! I don't want you thrashing around in here. Doors and walls are only so strong, ya know?" The clown giggled, pulling the knife back. "Maybe once we've broken you in a teensy bit more, then we can cut you a larger leash. Sound okay?" He winked before hopping off the table. Bruce glared at the Joker.

"Batman… won't let such a freak keep me here." Bruce bluffed, staring at the other's back. The Joker turned, swiveled on one foot. He walked over, crouching down to look at the other with a contemplating look on his face.

"You're so silly, Mr. Wayne." He looked down at what the other was wearing. A loose pair of tuxedo pants and an unbuttoned shirt. He saw the small wound with dried blood where he had knicked him the day before. He giggled, letting the knife trail up his chest and dig in a tiny bit. "Buuut you don't want me to get too angry, do ya? Not in these conditions. Well, I'm gonna head out. If you need anything, call!" The clown prince stood, stretching and walking off excitedly to the door. Bruce watched the door closed and let his head fall against his chest, growling under his breath as the Joker disappeared.

* * *

"…Anything yet, boys?" The greasy haired clown asked as he stepped into the large sitting area on the third day. Three days of waiting, and what? No Batman? The Joker was shocked, and a little hurt. Didn't his Bat want to come and say 'Hi'?

"Nothing, Boss. No break ins, no nothing." One of the men mumbled, sitting on a plush looking couch in the comfortable room. The Joker sighed.

"How unfortunate. What about the police?" He asked, walking over to look at the television his henchmen all crowded around.

"They're looking, but not finding. Like a wild goose chase. Haven't seen Batman for three days."

The Joker frowned. Three days? That seemed a bit ironic… Had Bruce told him to run off, so he wouldn't have to have this confrontation? Had he gone on vacation? Gone to Hong Kong again? Or… perhaps Bruce was hiding something. He stood, rushing off into the hallway, down a flight of stairs in the old hideout, and into the basement to the holding cell.  
Bruce had been laying on the mattress, trying to sleep. He was so tired, and devoid of any strength now… just a shell of what he had been. He had looked at the door closely, but without his arms free, he couldn't do much. He couldn't break down that door with just his legs… probably not with his whole body either. He groaned when he heard the door open. Joker again, or one of his men come to beat the living day lights out of him, like yesterday.

"Wakey, wakey. I've got some things to talk to you about." The Joker walked over to the bed, sitting on the foot of it. "Batman hasn't appeared in three days. That's kinda weird huh? I mean, three days ago? That was when I nabbed you and put you in here! What do you have to say about that, Bruce?"

Bruce glanced over at the Joker, sitting up with a bit of effort and leaning against the wall. "I think you're over analyzing things, Joker."

"Am I? Or are you hiding something? It could be either, Mr. Wayne." The clown prince slid closer, eyes looking curious as he pulled himself close to the other. Bruce tried to shift away, but the Joker stayed him with his hands. "Wait, wait…" He mumbled, mostly to himself. He leaned in close so his painted lips nearly touched the undercover vigilante's ear. His hands pushed the white button down shirt from Bruce's strong shoulders.

"Oooh, where did all these little marks come from, Brucey?" The Joker asked, staring down at the bruises all over his chest. There was one near the gut… an ugly black and blue welt. And there were small scratches along one shoulder, right across. "How strange… where do you get all these? Aren't entrepreneurs supposed to sit at home and go to meetings in their big estates?" It was becoming more and more clear. Bruce cursed under his breath.

"They're… from a fight I got into."

"Oooh, a fight? Really…" The Joker traced the scars, looking at the other's broad chest. Sure did look familiar… and so did this mans jaw and lips. He brought a hand up, not covered in his purple glove this time, and traced a finger against the other's lips absently.

"S-Stop…" Bruce murmured, trying to pull his face away from the other's iron grip, the apple peeler sitting dangerously close to his neck.

"Aww what's wrong, Bruce? Got a dirty little secret?" He giggled, watching the other for a moment before letting his knife cut open a small wound near one of the bruises, right on his chest. "Oopsies. Anyways, wanna tell me about it… Bats?"

"…I don't know what you're talking about." Bruce said quickly, glancing to the floor to avoid the other's dark, dark eyes.

"I think you do, Brucey! Is it all just a coincidence? The lips, the chin, the jaw? The chest? The fact that Mr. Batsy has been missing for three days? Just like my little caught businessman? How queer, how everything lines together, hmm? Wanna tell me all about it?" He asked again, pulling his sleeves up to his shaped forearms and watching the other, sitting cross legged on the bed. "I can tell when I've caught my bat, Mr. Wayne." He winked, looking at the other again.

Bruce sighed, defeated. So the Joker knew, now. Was this the end of Batman? Was this the end of Bruce, too?

"Aww, don't worry. I won't kill my Bats. I just wanted to know if it was you! And now that I know… well, wow! I'm just kind of surprised is all." The Joker did, in fact, look a bit taken aback. He now had the infamous Batman under his claws. What to do, what to do!?

"What will you do now?" Bruce asked with gritted teeth, echoing the Joker's thoughts. The man with the knife giggled in a lighthearted way.

"I just don't know, Bats. What SHOULD I do? I can't let you free… that'd be stupid of me, huh? It's fun having you here! Lots of fun. And you know me and fun."

"Yeah, twisted fun." Bruce snarled back angrily. This creep thought killing people, blowing things up, carving people's faces… that was HIS idea of fun. Bruce knew the norm for the word 'fun'. It definitely wasn't what this clown was thinking of.

"Aww Bats, you cut me to the quick. Let's not be angry at each other? Okay? Kiss and make up, right?"

"What…?"

The Joker grinned, watching the other. The knife stayed close to Bruce's neck and his scarred, cracked lips leaned in, pulling the tied up entrepreneur with him and pressing their lips together in a quick, chaste kiss. A bit of the red, smudged make up covered Bruce's face and the Joker laughed like a little girl, rubbing it off for him with his sleeve.

"Ta da! All better!" The Joker stood, glancing back at Bruce, whose eyes were wide, face set in a clearly disgusted expression. "I'll be back later, Bats. You're probably really hungry! And I have to think of what to do with you. So many choices. See you, sweetheart!"  
The Joker left, but Bruce could still feel his presence, taunting him in the white room. He spat on the floor in anger, staring at the wall. There had to be a way out of that room.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED!! Please R & R. I LOVE YOU ALL D:


	4. Chaos Crush

A slightly darker chapter for those who though I should have stepped it up. I hope you'll all appreciate this, guys. I'm proud of this chapter.

I don't own Batman, or the Dark Knight, or any of that.

R & R if you like. Of course, if you don't like, you're more than welcome to tell me why :D But anyways, on with the story!!

* * *

Anyone who had even had a glimpse of the Joker knew what he was: a sadistic, masochistic murderer. He enjoyed seeing others in pain, and enjoyed pain brought upon himself. To some, it was the scariest thing in the world: delighting in your own pain? It was sick.

To the Joker, it was a way of life. Why shouldn't he have fun with it? It was such a raw feeling, the power behind a punch against you, and it surged your whole body- electrified it completely. He delighted in that sort of thing.

So as the clown prince of darkness was undoing Bruce's handcuffs and cutting off the long bonds on his arms, he had already speculated what the other would do to him. His long, scarred grin stretched as his fingers fumbled with the ropes and finally let them fall onto the mattress.

"That feel better, Bats?" The Joker asked in what one could call an 'innocent' tone. He giggled, watching the others arms flex as he pulled them forward for the first time in three days. Bruce groaned, slowly standing and letting his arms move to get out the kinks in his joints. Within a few moments, his hands were grasping the Joker's collar and he went soaring off, and then smashed right into the wall. "Oof! Ha, I guess ya got your strength back!"

Bruce growled, holding the other up by the collar. "Shut up. When are you going to let me go?"

The Joker pouted, though his frown looked like a very off-kilter smirk from the long red makeup across his face. "You wanna leave already? We just started having fun?" That comment got a punch in the face, which the Joker accepted with a small groan before laughing against the floor where he had fallen. "Ah… ha ha! How'd you suddenly get so strong, Bats?" He asked, stumbling to his feet again. A bit of blood slid down the side of his face. Bruce brought up his hand, punching the other in the gut, causing him to keel over and clutch his stomach. "Ooo! Keep going!" He said cheerfully, in a slightly hoarse voice.

Bruce was sick and tired of the others delight in getting the living daylights knocked out of him. Bruce grabbed him by the collar, pushing him up against the wall again. "Joker…" He growled out, voice more animalistic, almost as deep as the one he used to mask himself for Batman.

"What is it, Bats?" The villainous man asked, coughing a tiny bit and grinning weakly. "You wanna leave me already, huh? You know, now that I know your 'secret identity' and all that, I could really have fun! Find all your friends and loved ones… fun stuff!"  
"…I wouldn't let you." Bruce growled back. "I swear, I'll-"

"What? Kill me? You're not gonna kill me, Brucey. You know you won't." The Joker tried to get more comfortable, which was hard, at the angle he was suspended. "Listen, we know I won't kill you, and you won't kill me. It's a standstill! We should just stay together. Makes it easier on both of us!"

Bruce frowned. What in God's name was the Joker trying to say now? "… Stay together?"

"Mmhmm!" Joker watched the other with his dark eyes, grinning. "I can't talk about it from up here though, I'm afraid."

Reluctantly, the clown was let on his feet again. He smirked, fixing his vest and dusting it off. "Now. I think we should work together a bit more. You should stay here, have a vacation! I can get a nice sum if I say you're my hostage, ya know. Not that I'm interested in money." The Joker crossed one leg over the other, sitting atop the table. He leaned back on his arms. "We could have lots of fun! I would probably stop killing so much, with a buddy. You know." He winked, watching Bruce growl under his breath.

"I'm not going to stay here, Joker." Bruce said angrily. "I can't even believe you're bringing this up. I'm not staying here so you and your sick, twisted mind can…" Bruce trailed off, watching the Joker, who was playing with his knife again. He didn't hold it in a threatening fashion- just let his fingers caress the blade.

"… Well, I just don't know, Bruce. What if I tell everyone who you really are? That wouldn't be too good. You might have to go into hiding. With me, if you want! We could be roomies!"

Bruce glared at the other. "… I won't go into hiding. If you tell everyone about me… I'll turn myself in."

"Oh, how noble!" The Joker went on, cackling. "Bats, you're one in a million! C'mere." He hopped off his spot on the table, walking over to Bruce, who already had his fists up. His old button down, collared white shirt was lying abandoned on the mattress. The long carved scars of past battles and the bruises from brushes with villains riddled his muscled chest. The dark clown walked over, his brow raised, watching as the other got ready to throw a punch.

The fist came, and the villain dodged, running into Bruce from the sudden change in direction. He glanced up at the taller male with a true grin plastered on his face as his own fully clothed chest pressed into the others, the knife at his throat again. Bruce growled, glowering down at the other.

"Ya see, Bruce…" The other traced circles with his fingers against the other's chest, letting them outskirt the long scars he had left a few days ago. "If you tell everyone, what's going to happen? You wind up in jail? Or just… hated? That's no fun. And ya have to have fun. That's why you're here, with me! I wanted some fun!" The Joker grinned up at the other, who was backed against a wall.

"Yeah, fun. Sure." Bruce mumbled under his breath, chest rising and falling from over-exertion. Lifting the villain so many times, tossing him into things… his arms ached already. He glanced down at the other, who had a contemplative look on his face. He seemed to almost appear coy as he suddenly grinned again, both hands going to the others face so he had to look at him. "Think about it. You come here for a while, on weekends maybe? Take a load off. Ya know you wanna."

"I definitely don't want to." Bruce jibed back, scowling. Why would he want to spend time with the crazy clown? And wasn't he still the villain? So was the Joker going to rat on him, or not?

Said crazy clown was holding the knife in one hand, letting it trace the others lips. Bruce took in a breath, glaring down at him.  
"Don't push me away now, sweetheart. You might just bust a muscle. That wouldn't be good, huh?" The Joker asked, and Batman knew he actually had a point this time. But he didn't like how close the other was getting. "…Hmm. You want your Bat suit? Would that make you happy?" He asked.

"I'd rather you let me go. THAT would make me happy." Bruce replied in a sardonic tone, rolling his eyes. What was Joker talking about, making him happy? This man killed hundreds of innocent people every day, got into deals with other criminals… blew up hospitals… Why was he suddenly so interested in his 'happiness'?

"Alright, alright… I will." He replied with a smirk. "Buuut it's gonna cost you." He glanced up at the other, his chest still pressed against him.

Bruce knew that had been coming. But he couldn't figure out what the other could possibly want from him. If the clown wasn't interested in money… perhaps blackmail? Bruce swallowed. "…What could you possibly want?" He finally asked, glancing down at the other, who's hands were shaking… he suspected that to be normal.

Joker licked his lips out of habit, grinning up at him. "Hmm. Well I've been thinking about this whole predicament. And when I said 'kiss and make up', I was hoping that would be on both sides. Considering you're the one who should be doing the making up. You did horribly attack me!" His voice mimicked a hurt tone and he smiled slightly at the other, the long scars causing it to look much more wicked than it was.

"…You want me to…?"

"Mmhmm. You don't need to look that surprise. I'm a busy guy, sweetheart. I don't have time for this kind of stuff normally. And I've had to examine that chin and those lips a lot lately, to figure out just exactly who it is. And now I know! Hee, see, I just wanna peek into that mind of yours. It's the only way. And of course, I'll let ya go, if you want." He shrugged as if this were a mere trifle.

"…Joker…" Bruce growled in a warning tone. Why would he want that sort of 'payment' for being set free? He had expected something like blackmail, letting him murder one of his friends… so this was a surprise. Not a pleasant one, but a surprise.

"You decide, Bruce. It's not up to ME whether you wanna spend more time in my nifty little room or not."

Bruce growled, grabbing the other's arms and crushing their lips together suddenly. The Joker's eyes seemed to widen in curiosity before he sunk into it with a large grin on his lips, as the uncovered bat's passionate kiss was one of hunger and dominance. The clown prince beneath him humbly obliged, if only to keep the other's lips pressed there longer.

Bruce's arms had caught the other's waist and his eyes were closed. The innocent 'kiss and make up' had become a ravaging of each others' mouths as Bruce had the clown pressed up against the wall a moment later, his breath ragged into the other's mouth.  
The Joker beneath him was… surprised. He could barely keep up with the other, and his hands roamed over the long expanse of the vigilante's chest, feeling every rugged muscle and bone. His mouth was open as a slight moan erupted from his throat. This seemed to stop Bruce in his tracks. His eyes opened and he looked down at the other before quickly pulling away. The Joker wore a smug smirk on his face. He walked over, brushing some of the badly applied makeup from Bruce's face.

"…How soon do you wanna leave now, Bats?"

* * *

A bit shorter than usual. Sorry! BUT I'm hoping you'll all like it. I'm also aware that people have had the kiss thing before... but I thought it fit REALLY well into my story. And it's a lot different than the other ones. So here it is. Read and review, if you like. See you next chapter!


	5. The Dinner Date

Okay, Chapter 5! Already? It feels as if I just started this... well, I kind of did, huh?

Anyways. For the review that someone sent, YES I am a fan of Ludo. The title is a play on the song. I had explained this, but it got erased... so I'm so sorry for not telling you guys that before! The title is off the song "Love Me Dead" by Ludo, a great song I recently got into.

Heath Ledger Joker, Christian Bale Batman. Neither of which do I own. Just so we all know. Okay, on with the chapter!

* * *

Bruce was home again. It was an unfamiliar feeling after three days, being kept in a small little room. Now he had his large Wayne Complex building, all the floors, and his large penthouse on top…

When Alfred had seen Bruce, finally home, he had rushed to ask him any questions he could. Where had Bruce been for the past three days? Had he been in trouble? Was it because of a job? Because of Batman?"

Bruce had simply told Alfred that he really didn't want to talk about it… and it was true. He had… done things. Strange things he felt… a bit apprehensive about. Yet, he didn't understand himself. Why had he done it? Why had he gotten so close to that… that clown!?

He collapsed in a large leather chair, rubbing his temples. He glanced over at the breakfast tray on the coffee table. He wasn't very hungry right now… but perhaps some orange juice would be alright. He reached over to grab the cup, but frowned when he saw it was pretty much empty… and the rim was covered in red, faint blotches.

"Hmm." He looked over at the tray and saw a piece of paper folded underneath his toast. He grabbed it, wondering if Alfred had left it there… or someone else.

He shook out the paper and looked at the chicken scratch, done with purply black, murky ink that was splotched everywhere. He could barely read it, but he squinted to make the words out.

** Hey sweetheart!**

** Dinner date- Tonight, 7:30. Seventh floor of the 'Wayne Complex'. No Batman, no weapons. I will bring only myself!**

** See you then!**

**  
- J**

* * *

It was almost 7:30. 7:29, in fact. The Joker was wondering if Bruce would be late, or not show up at all. Perhaps he hadn't gotten the note? He glanced around the room.

This floor held all meeting rooms- private areas with long tables and water coolers in the corner. A large projector screen was set up- the room had probably been used earlier that day.

The Joker was sitting comfortably in one of the many chairs, all empty, save for his own. He had a roast chicken sitting on one of the long, lonesome tables, with cutlery and one glass of champagne. The clown didn't normally eat and drink the good stuff, so this was a 'special' occasion.

It was still quiet. The Joker absently licked his lips, glancing back at the clock. 7:30… he fixed his tie, running a hand through his messy and greasy mane. His purple trench coat was hanging on the water cooler, his gray blazer lying on the floor somewhere. He didn't much care for it- he only used it for costume purposes anyways.

The door opened. Handsome, tall, lean Bruce stepped in, fixing the cuffs of a suit he was wearing.

Did Bruce expect the dinner waiting? No, he had thought that this would be a trap. He would have bet that the Joker was just waiting to get his claws on him again. But he was wrong; the clown wasn't interested in fighting. He knew he couldn't win a battle of brute strength.

"I wasn't sure if you'd show, Bruce!" Joker stood from his spot with a slight grin, placing his hands on his hips. The chain hanging from his belt loops clanged its links together.

"It's 7:30, isn't it?" Bruce asked coldly, glancing at the time. He eyed the food on the long meeting table. "…I wasn't expecting this, though."

The Joker looked crushed… well, he pretended to look it. "Aww, Brucey, I said a dinner date! You thought I'd trick you or something? Nah, I have better things to do with my time." He sat back down. "You hungry?"

"…" Bruce sat across from the other on the table. "Poison?"

"Hmm?"

"You poisoned the food, didn't you?"

"What?" The Joker laughed, his cut up, scarred smile widening. "You really don't trust me, huh?"

"…Why would I?" Bruce asked angrily, fists clenched on the table as he stared at the other. "You kidnapped me, and left me in a room for three days. You killed Rachel, and then Harvey Dent."

"Waaait, I didn't kill your buddies. That wasn't MY fault. I was in Arkham, don't you remember anything?" The Joker shook his head, slicing a piece of the chicken right off the roasted piece and placing it on his plate. He slid it into his mouth with a grin. "Are you blaming your own problems on me? That's called self denial, Brucey."

Bruce hissed under his breath. "…Is there a reason you called me here?" He finally asked. Did this little 'date' have a purpose?

"A reason? Well, I dunno!" The Joker chewed, seeming to contemplate. Once he swallowed, he made a confused face. "…Do I need a reason to see my Bats again?" He asked playfully, grinning at the other. He poured out two glasses of champagne, sipping from his own. Bruce still seemed a bit reluctant. "I didn't poison anything, sweetheart. Go ahead!" He coaxed, smirking.

Bruce picked up a nearby fork, inspecting it on both sides… just in case. He grabbed the knife and did the same. It was a rather blunt knife- probably so he wouldn't stab anyone hard with it. He slowly took a piece of chicken, watching the other, who was, of course, watching intently as he chewed.

"…What?"

"You're fascinating, you know that?" The Joker asked suddenly, grinning. He swallowed, putting his fork down and leaning more against one arm, pointing at him. "You really are scared of the food!" He cackled before regaining his composure, his large laugh fading into giggles. "Pfft… why would I kill the great Batman with poison? Who does that?" He asked with a raised brow.

"I don't know. People who want the job done." Bruce replied coldly, sniffing the chicken before putting a tiny piece into his mouth.

"Believe it or not, I don't want the 'job done'. I wanted to talk! You know… talking, not brute force-"

"Just because I fight villains… that doesn't mean I don't know how to talk normally." Bruce murmured as he chewed the chicken slowly. It was pretty good… he had had better, but he wondered if the Joker had actually cooked this. That would have been a funny sight.

"What's on your mind?" The Joker asked with a grin, abandoning his food to look at the other properly.

"Nothing." Bruce replied lightly. What did the Joker want? A civilized conversation? Bruce didn't want that. He didn't even know why he bothered coming. It was… something about this man. He was incredibly intriguing. He made you want to come- if only to find out more.

"…Hmmmmm." The Joker hummed in his throat like a bird, watching the other as he stared off into space. "Earth to Bruce! Wake up, sweetie!" When Bruce glared at him, he giggled cutely. "Oopsies. Sorry, you were starin' off, there!"

"Why did you…" Bruce trailed off. He had suddenly thought of his 'payment' for his freedom. The Joker watched him curiously, playing with his fork against his lips.

"Hmm?"

"…Nevermind."

"Bruuuce…" The Joker seemed to be losing his patience. He knew why he had called the other here. He knew what HE wanted. But what did Bruce want? He sighed, putting the fork down on the table before sliding his glass of champagne aside, as well as the plates of food, and Bruce's glass. He slowly pulled himself up so he was sitting on the table.

"…Joker-" Bruce said slowly, quirking an eyebrow. What was the clown up to now? He leaned back in his chair, looking confused.

The other laughed, pushing himself across the table easily and landing on the entrepreneur's lap.

"You called?" The Joker asked as he adjusted his body to fit against the other's, legs straddling the man beneath him's hips. He watched Bruce, who stared up at him in surprise. It only took a moment for something to click before the Joker's lips covered the secret hero's, ravaging his mouth, both inside and out. His hands ran up his chest and soon the man beneath him groaned, closing his eyes and pulling into the quest for dominance.

It was a battle for the top and once Bruce had won, he pinned the other against the table, pushing him up onto it and getting his own body atop. He wouldn't let the other win this…

The clown beneath him had his hands running through the others dark hair, pulling his head forward into his own, crushing their lips together in a lustful kiss. It took a moment for Bruce to pull his arms off the table and shove their hips together, causing a small moan to erupt from deep in the green haired man's throat.

Things crashed off the table and fell onto the floor, neglected as Bruce's blazer was pushed off his shoulders by the other man's strong hands, which began pulling at his tucked in shirt. Stained teeth played with the soft, pink flesh of Bruce's lower lip, and Bruce groaned, chest heaving into the other's as his hands worked at the buttons of his green vest.

When the Joker's hands moved lower from the untucked shirt down to the stiffness in Bruce's pants, the entrepreneur couldn't help but let a loud groan escape from his parted lips. The other's tongue had already begun to explore inside his mouth and he opened it wider, letting their tongues dance as his hands pushed the other's body against his own. The feel of two strong, hard chests pressed together and the beating of their hearts so closely in unison caused both men to shudder.

Bruce finally took a moment to look down at the other as the crazy man beneath him began to kiss his neck roughly. He sighed in pleasure, watching the other's body as his chest rose and fell, and his back arched when he ground their hips closer together. Every touch had a response that was new, and completely different from a woman's. Bruce was surprised by the way he could get the other to move and react.

The Joker laughed weakly when he saw the other watching him. His lips slid away from his neck and he simply laid back on the table as if it were a bed, taking a few deep breaths. His blue button down shirt was unbuttoned near the top, his tie loosened considerably, hanging off his neck, his vest off, lying on the floor. Bruce's shirt was just as loose, but halfway undone. He swallowed, watching the other lick his lips habitually…

"…Ugh." Bruce groaned, pulling himself away from the other's body and placing his head in his hands. He glanced back at the other with wide eyes before tucking in his shirt as fast as humanly possible and slicking his hair back, grabbing his blazer and running off.

The Joker grinned, cackling as he left. "Bailing already, Bats? Well, see you!"

* * *

Okay, I hope you all enjoyed! Next chapter will be up sometime soon! Thanks for reading, guys!


	6. Gone Awry

TA DA! New chapter for everyone! Okay, so this chapter's a bit weird. But I want you guys to just think about where I'm coming from with it. Because a lot of you might think it's OOC... and I'm really sorry if it is! But I think it makes sense, in my little twisted world!

I don't own Batman or any of the characters in the series.

This is Heath Ledger's Joker, and Christian Bale's Batman, because I love them the most!

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"Listen. If anything were to happen to all your precious money… how would YOU feel?" The Joker asked the large group of mob bosses and cronies, all sitting around a circular table. Of course, he had shown up unannounced, as usual. He just wanted to clear the slate with everyone here.

A large man at the end of the table stood up. "Are you threatening us!?"

"…Nooo…" The clown grinned slightly, leaning against the table. "Ya see, I'm not new to this game. You've got… police, ordinary citizens… everyone's lookin' for you guys now! I mean, stealing from a bank? Big no-no, unless ya know how to do it. Someone snaps a picture- bam!" He paused for dramatic effect, grinning. "Your face is on the daily news and you're all being hunted like little sitting ducks."

"We know our situation is becoming more dire." One of the men called over, glaring at the Joker. "We're trying to fix it. By fix it, I mean… we're staying hidden."

"…That's your next move!?" The Joker laughed, and it erupted and bounced off the ceiling, echoing through the pretty much empty room, save for the table they all stood and sat around. His large cackle emptied into little giggles and he grinned, licking his lips. "Alright, well that's easy to SAY… but can ya pull it off? Sounds like you're all just scared, to me!"

One of the particularly large, muscled men stood up angrily. A few others watched the clown with loathing in their eyes.

"See, if it were ME…" The Joker scratched the back of his neck, his dark eyes looking back up. "I would try and maybe take out some police officer. Someone a lot of people KNOW. Someone liiike…"

"That commissioner guy." One of the men ended the sentence for the madman, who laughed, pointing at him.

"There ya go!"

As he went quiet, a lot of the men started to murmur among themselves, trying to decide what to do. The rather portly man at the end, who seemed surrounded by large, burly men, (security guards, probably), stood up again. "Alright, ALRIGHT!" He shouted, waiting for everyone's whisperings to die down. "…We're not taking advice from this… this… I don't even know! We're not going to change tactics now! We lie low for a little while until this whole scandal dies down. The picture's been taken at the bank, and we can't do ANYTHING about it! We'll strike once this whole fiasco is forgotten about!"

The Joker raised a brow, grinning as he sat in his chair, leaning back and scratching a hand through his greasy green mane. "Not gonna listen? Aww, that's too bad, big guy. I thought I might talk some sense into you all!" He shrugged, getting to his feet and brushing off his coat.

"Wait, you weren't even ALLOWED in here!" The large man said angrily. He pointed at the clown and his burly men came over. Of course, The Joker was used to THIS as well. He reached into a pocket of his old dusty trench, pulling out a gun and pointing it at the large man at the far end of the table.

"Wait wait waaaait…" He said with a small grin, walking backwards towards the door. The cronies had stopped now, and the Joker turned tail and bolted out of the building and out the door.

"Follow him!" The portly man shouted, and his large, burly men ran off in pursuit.

Considering the murderer's long legs and his lithe body, he was pretty good at running. He hurried off down the alleyway and off onto a side street. When he heard the thumping of large bodies following behind him, he pulled out his gun, turning his head to see and trying to aim. Oh, it was definitely hard when you were running- you kept knocking the gun around. He shot and it nearly hit one of the men's arms.

"Hurry up!" A dark skinned man shouted at the others before lunging and making the clown fall over on the concrete. He laughed- hard.

"Aww damn!" Joker laughed good naturedly, looking up at the man who brought a fist up, smashing it into the side of his face. The gun flew from his grasp and he fell onto the concrete with a strangled chuckle, blood dripping from his already red lips.

"Stop. LAUGHING!" The man shouted, kicking hard into the side of the smaller male's ribs, satisfied with the sound of a crack. One of the flunkies ran up with an old iron pipe and sent it down hard into the purple suited man's back. Once he didn't get up, they all stepped back.

Of course, the sound of panting, hoarse giggles was still audible… but he wasn't trying to stand up. His body stayed hunched over against the floor and blood dripped from his lips, and stained his green vest from the hard kick that had been delivered.

"…Come on, boys." The burly men walked off.

"Ahh…" The Joker laughed slowly, grasping the aching spots and watching the men leave. He pulled himself up against the low fence next to him, his whole body shaking. Pain wasn't too prominent in the Joker's laugh- then he felt it, he must have been hit pretty hard. He was used to just the tickly sensation of a well delivered punch to the gut. This was hurting a bit more than expected.  
He felt around for his gun, finding it under a few old trash bags. He pushed it into his pocket and slowly began to walk down the alleyway.

Where was he going? Where was the closest place he could get this looked at? His lookout was on the other side of the city, and one of the other hideouts was way too far. He groaned, covering his face with a hand before chuckling.

No, he wouldn't go there…

But when the huge building loomed in front of him, he was faced with the choice. But what villain in their right mind would ask Batman for help?

* * *

"Alfred!" Bruce rushed out of the elevator, fixing the cuff links on his sleeves and pulling on his gray blazer. "Alfred, are you in there?" He asked, walking into the large kitchen on the very first floor of the complex. He had needed to come down before attending his meeting. Alfred was in the backroom of the working kitchen, fixing something for Bruce to eat later.

"Yes, Master Wayne. Are you going upstairs to your meeting?" He asked, preoccupied with trying to make the other some dinner before he went out on his nightly crusades.

Bruce nodded his head slowly. In truth, he was really not looking forward to it. He was more worried about where the Joker had gone. That man… he would be the death of him. He ran off before he could even catch him… after what they had done in the meeting room...

Bruce coughed, glancing over at Alfred. "I'm just going to see if anything's on the news here, since I'm already dressed." He explained, smiling. "Thank you for preparing dinner. I'll be back soon." He nodded before walking off, out of the kitchen, down the hall, and to the large living room. He walked to the large tv screen and turned it on to the news.

"Rumors have been spreading about a large group of mob men who have raided the Gotham Bank a week ago. No one has seen nor heard of any of them for the past week, and people are starting to think they have disappeared, or are waiting for their next attack."

"…What about the Joker?" Bruce asked angrily, more to himself than to anyone. When the doorbell rang, he glanced over at the doorway behind him. Alfred was busy…

"I'll get it, Alfred!" He shouted to him. It had been a long time since Bruce had been able to answer the door.

The doorbell didn't stop ringing. It was as if someone were just pressing the button down. The ringing hurt his ears and he ran to the door, opening it quickly.

"Hello, how can-" Bruce stared at the bloody man in front of him.

"Hiya, Bats. I got a problem…" The Joker grinned, showing his yellowed teeth. His makeup was smudged near his chin and on one side of his cheek, where he had hit pavement. Blood was dried and cracked at the corner of one of his lips, and he was standing at an odd angle. A large bloody spot had formed on his ribs and he was leaning heavily against the wall of the complex, hand still pressed into the doorbell.

"…What the hell did you do!?" Bruce hissed angrily, glancing back at the kitchen hallway to make sure Alfred wasn't coming before grabbing the other's arm, pulling him off through the living room and to the elevator. He shoved him inside before stepping in and pressing the 28th floor button. He glanced over at the Joker, who was grinning. "No, Seriously, Joker. What the hell did you do!?" He asked, walking over to the other and pulling off his trench coat without any protest from the clown.

The Joker grinned. "Thanks for your concern. I got in trouble with some big time bosses and pointing a gun at their fat ruler was a bit too much for their tiny minds to handle. Sooo I got chased down- Eee, be careful!" He winced a tiny bit when the other touched his side.

Bruce rolled his eyes, looking closely at the blood before fixing himself up. "You're lucky I'm used to bandaging wounds. I don't even know what possessed you to come over here, Joker."

The Joker's brows rose. "You don't know? We can't live without each other, Brucey! So I figured you might help me out!" Despite his weak state, the clown grabbed the other's neck, making Bruce blink in surprise. The Joker grinned and pulled his lips down into a small kiss.

The entrepreneur could taste the blood in the others mouth, and he pulled away after a moment. He couldn't let this continue… they weren't a COUPLE. They were Batman and the Joker!

"…Alright, come on." Bruce said with a small sigh of defeat, watching the doors finally open to the large suite at the top floor. He pulled the other in by the wrist, watching him stagger a bit before walking behind him. He sat the Joker down on the large leather couch. "…Stay here." He ordered, glaring at the other who simply grinned, trying to be cute.

The billionaire walked off into the bathroom, collecting all sorts of different bandages, ointments, and gauze. He had no idea why he was helping this man. He had killed Rachel… and he had killed many more. He was a murderer, and a thief, and an evil villain. He wasn't supposed to be caring about his wounds and treating him. He was SUPPOSED to just close the door and go on with his life.  
But if Bruce had closed that door, an instant later, he would have felt worry and guilt and anger at himself… he had never seen the Joker in pain before. And it had to be pretty intense pain for him to actually show it.

He came back to find the Joker still sitting on the couch. "I'm getting your fine upholstery all dirty!" The smaller man said with a frown, though the long scars on his cheeks made it into a sort of lopsided smile.

"It's fine, I can always get it cleaned." Bruce mumbled, kneeling down in front of the other's body and putting all the first aid items down. He sighed, reaching over and undoing the buttons of the other's vest for him. He slid it off the small shoulders and let it fall onto the floor.

There was even more blood on his blue button down shirt, and he pulled that away from the large wound as well, letting it hang off the other's shoulders comfortably. "…How'd this happen?"

"I got kicked." When Bruce glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, he chuckled. "I got kicked HARD." He said, leaning back against the leather. Bruce frowned, noting the pale flesh of the other's body. He was surprised at the normal tint. He was used to staring at that white makeup and red face paint.

He grabbed a water bottle lying beside him and dipped some gauze against it, cleaning up the wound. "Does this happen a lot?" Bruce asked conversationally to fill the slight pause in conversation.

The Joker grinned, leaning his head back so his Adams apple protruded slightly from his long neck. "Not a lot, nooo. I usually get out without anyone chasing after me! But that guy was just sooo offended…" He chuckled gently, glancing down at the other, who rolled his eyes.

"Why do you bother, if they never listen?" Bruce asked irritably, wrapping a bandage around the other's waist, leaning his arms around it to get the gauze around and tying it once he had it secured.

"For fun!" The Joker smirked, glancing down at the other. "And to keep you occupied, of course. But this time it wasn't about… the Batman." He licked his lips a bit, and Bruce wondered if that one was out of habit, or if he was thinking of something else.

The entrepreneur stood up, asking, "Any more injuries, then?" He frowned. He was pretty angry with himself for succumbing and letting this murderer into his house. It was as if his Batman side was battling with his Bruce side.

"Just my heart!" The clown smirked, watching the other and winking before leaning back against the couch. "You have a nice place, Brucey. Can I come over more often?"

"No. You're lucky I let you in this time!" Bruce growled, standing and going to put the first aid items away. He heard the other laughing and glanced back at him, rolling his eyes. He placed everything back in the cabinet in the master bathroom and walked back out. "Alright. Alfred is going to be wondering who was at the door… but he thinks I'm at a meeting. So that should buy a bit of time."

"A meeting? With a bunch of stuffy business partners? Nah, Brucey, you should stay here with me! So I don't get lonely!"

"More like so you don't blow up my complex." Bruce said in a biting tone, walking back over to the living room area and sitting in one of the chairs. The Joker looked down at his bloody shirt and vest.

"…Got any clothes I can borrow?" He asked with a smile. Everything of his was pretty much covered in blood.

Bruce stood, walking to the closet. He had many very expensive suits, ones he didn't want to be touched by that… that clown. He grabbed an older pair of black tuxedo pants and a white shirt, throwing them at him. The Joker smiled, standing up with a small wince, cracking his back.

"Remember when I hit your back with a lead pipe, Bruce?" The Joker asked, folding the clothing against his arm.

Oh, Bruce remembered. It was at the top floor of that building, chasing him down, with all the SWAT team cars and the hostages…

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well now I feel bad about it." The Joker chuckled, rubbing his own back and walking over to the entrepreneur, planting a kiss on his cheek and walking off into the bathroom to change.

Bruce rubbed the red makeup from his face quickly and sat down on the couch irritably, collecting the other's bloody clothing.

He had no idea what he was doing. He had the Joker in his house… on his top floor. He had treated his wounds and now he was putting on his clothes? He could have easily called the police right then and there, and gotten the clown cooped up in Arkham again. But for some reason, he didn't want to.

* * *

Yeah, a bit weird. But thanks so much for reading! The next chapter should be up sometime this week! Thanks so much for reading, guys! It means a lot!


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